In Variety Actors on Actors, longtime dear friends Academy Award Best Actor Winner Brendan Frasier and Golden Globes Best Actor Nominee Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson discussed their movies, Rental Family and The Smashing Machine, and life.
Brendan asked Dwayne, “You ever feel like, man? Okay, like you can throw me off the back of a moving vehicle, or like light me on fire, or you know, knock the crap out me all afternoon. Just don’t say anything mean, because that will really hurt!”
Dwayne said, “Yes. By the way, that’s the vulnerability part.”
The physical pain on the outside hurts, but that pain inside really hurts.
Brendan said, “I know to a degree, what it’s like to be relied on to be the guy, who’s not allowed to show that pain.”
Dwayne nodded. He knew what it’s like, too.
When did I know “I’m not allowed.”? That I’m not allowed to show that pain. In my experience for good or bad, that’s being a man. There’s truth in stereotype, in that expectation. As men, we’re not allowed to show our pain. The Old School paradigm is present even today, underneath more enlightened social consciousness that men have to be in touch with our feelings, that we can freely show our emotions without recourse. Less samurai. More Dr. Phil. Maybe that over simplifies the culture. Still, that tone authentically resonates, at least for me.
When I was about 8 years old, I got “I wasn’t allowed.” My Dad despised any sign of weakness from me. I had to take pain. I had to be a man, like him. Dad scared the hell out of me when I was a little boy. Whatever I did or didn’t do made him so angry with me. I never knew which. I only knew Dad thought I was weak. I was his greatest disappointment in life. I was not good enough for Dad. I never would be. I would never be good for anyone else, especially me.
When Dad yelled or hit me, I wasn’t allowed to cry. If I did that only made it worse for me. I wasn’t allowed to show that pain inside me. I profoundly got that I’m not good enough. That hurt deep inside me. I spent much of my adult life, proving that I was good enough for Dad to love me. I continually had to prove to everyone that I was good enough, especially to myself. I wasn’t allowed to show that pain inside.
About 12 years ago, I got laid off from the job that I loved. I got a new job that looked like a cause to change the world, but was not. I fell into clinical depression. Although I had made a difference for others in the past, at work, in Aikido, I felt that I was no longer useful, that I was obsolete. That hurt deep inside. I hurt deep inside, too. Maybe, Dad was right: I wasn’t good enough. I was a fucking loser.
Aikido Founder O-Sensei Morihei Ueshiba said, “True victory is victory over oneself.” I was the only one, who could heal myself. Overcome myself. Get out of my own way.
I began therapy with Lance Miller to heal my childhood trauma and depression. I forgave my Dad for not knowing how to be a father, for being afraid inside, and for being imperfectly human. I forgive myself for not being strong enough to stand up to Dad as a little boy and protect Mom. I forgive myself for being imperfectly human, too. I love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. I’m allowed to show my pain and fear inside. I accepted it. Bring it in. I let it go.
Ishibashi Sensei said, “The purpose of Aikido is to release your fear.” Sensei said, “The safest place to be is under the attack, in the danger.” When the bigger stronger man attacks, I wait it out. I enter the attack and die with honor. I get under the attack, in the danger. I hold my position. Make my timing. I apply the Aikido technique to myself, not to the attacker. It’s me against me. Every time I get under the attack, enter what I fear, I let go more of my fear inside, my pain inside that I’m not good enough. I’m allowed to have fear and pain inside me. I open up. I let it go over, and over, and over again. I free myself. Just train.
We’re allowed to show that pain and fear inside that we’re not good enough. We’re allowed to be human. Then we can let it go. We were always good enough. We just had to look inside ourselves to find that. We’re allowed to live.
